The World According To Arthur Kirkland
by Ramenshinigami
Summary: Arthur is just a lonely university student, but what happens when a slimy yet attractive Frenchman appears at his university? Read to find out. (rated T for language and maybe some other things later)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is set in university. FrUk warning, maybe other mentions of ships. Ages are roughly 18 for all characters. Arthur's POV. Enjoy, my lovelies. _

I let out a large sigh as I sat down at the kitchen table. I picked up a new paper that tickled my fancy and began to read, while cautiously sipping at my tea, being careful not to burn my tongue. Yawning, I remembered the reason why I was tired in the first place. My English teacher had set us an assignment that was due in for the next day. I unfortunately procrastinated longer than I anticipated and spent 6 hours finishing the task, finally going to bed at 3 am.

As you could already interpret, my life was rather boring. I was just a British student, single, who lived alone in a university dorm. I would spend the majority of my days studying for exams. I never went to parties, purely because I didn't have enough friends to invite me. I felt a tad left out, but I enjoyed my company more than others. Begin alone could be awesome; but not all the time. I sometimes wished that I could have a significant other, just to keep me company, or to cuddle up to late at night. I craved body contact more than anything back then.

I sighed once again and put down my newspaper, gulping down the rest of my tea before getting ready for period 1, which was Phycology. I never really bothered with breakfast, it didn't seem important to me. But not eating in the morning was probably the reason I was so slim.

After carefully brushing my teeth and attempting to tame the animal, which was commonly known as my hair, I slung my rucksack over my shoulder and opened my apartment door, only to see a man, surrounded by a couple of suitcases.

The man was tall, somewhat feminine, but manly at the same time (if that makes any sense). He had blonde, silky hair, which I was ever so envious of and a stubble. His eyes where a radiant blue, which reminded me of the ocean and his face was sculpted like an ancient Greek god. My legs felt like jelly as I felt my face heat up. I mentally slapped myself and forced myself to look into the deity's eyes.

"H-Hello. Can I help you?" I said, trying not to sound nervous. The god-like man smiled, showing off his perfect pearly white teeth, making me self-conscious about my own. The man's lips were rosy, almost like rose buds.

"Ah, no. Thank you. I have just transferred from France and I have been placed in an apartment with a 'Mr. Kirkland'?" He said, raising a (presumably) plucked eyebrow. His accent caught me off guard. _Oh god, it's a frog. And an attractive one that that!_ I thought to myself. Ever since I can remember the French and the English have always loathed each other. I used to make jokes about the French, when I was a child, only to impress my mother, but secretly, I had a lust for the peculiar accents and attractive men.

I was snapped out of my daydream by the French man in front of me, coughing.

"Ah, yes. I do apologise, I was just in deep thought. Yes, I am Mr. Kirkland. Please, call me Arthur." I said politely sticking out my hand for the fellow to shake. To my utter surprise, the frog took my hand, but instead of shaking it, leaned in and kissed my cheeks. I froze. The man obviously noticed my surprise because he then said;

"Oh, I am sorry. It's just what the French do, as a greeting back at home," He said, smiling apologetically. " My name is Francis. Francis Bonnefoy," As I looked at his facial expression, I realised something. He wasn't smiling, he was smirking! He planned to kiss me all along, he planned to make me feel uncomfortable. I gritted my teeth, trying not to show my short temper. "I do hope we can get along. " He said as he walked past me, and placed his suitcases in my apartment's hallway.

The audacity of this man was unbelievable! I knew from the very start we wouldn't get on, not one single bit.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello, thanks for reading this :D means a lot to me. Anyway, here's chapter 2-Scottie_

After the man carried his suitcases into the hallway, he glanced at me and ginned innocently. "I like you, you're complicated. Anyway, where should I put my bags, Mr. Kirkland?" He said, with a grin. Just him smiling was enough to tick me off. I frowned at him, letting his first comment slide.

"There is a spare bedroom 2nd door on the left. It's opposite my bed chamber," I sighed "Please do knock before you enter. It's common curtsy." Francis chuckled, as if he was mocking me.

"You speak to me as if I am an uncivilised animal, Mr. Kirkland. I have been raised well, so do not worry. I understand that every man needs their space," He said .I let out a sigh of relief, trying not to get irate at what he said. "But, I can't promise anything~" He sang, as he winked at me. I was about to tell him that that was not expectable and that this was my apartment, but before I could open my mouth, he had picked up his bags, and was already closing his bedroom door.

I swore to myself, walked out of the front door, and slammed it behind me, hoping that Francis would understand how pissed off I was. I tried to calm myself as I walked to my University, but I couldn't get myself to calm down. I really hoped I wouldn't have to look at his slimy face again today.

I arrived at my classroom 10 minutes later. I sat down in a free seat and waited for my Psychology teacher to arrive. I decided to revise for an exam I had in Biology next period. Dr. Wang was always late for his classes, not that anybody complained (apart from me.). About 5 minutes later, the classroom door swung open with a loud bang, causing me to jump in my skin. I looked up from my revision book to see what emitted that noise. I sighed as I saw the tall, blonde look at me through his glasses. It was Alfred. Alfred was like a little brother to me. We grew up together and we were always really close, even though he could really get on peoples nerves. He was a good kid, but during this part of his life, he was starting to rebel against me, declaring that we wanted to be independent and that I wasn't needed in his life. We often got into arguments about this. I understood that he wanted his freedom, but I didn't want him to leave me. If he did, I would have been very lonely. Alfred was almost the only soul who could tolerate me, which was a skill of his.

I forced a smile as he grinned at me and began to run towards where I was situated. He sat down, and instantly started to rummage through his bag, presumably searching for something to consume. His face lit up when he successfully found a bag of America crisps. He violently tore open the bag and took a handful, shoving it into his big mouth and chewing loudly. I grimaced at the noised his was making.

"Chew with your mouth closed. It's disgusting." I spat, shaking my head at him. Alfred scowled, still munching away at the calories.

"Shut up, dude. You're not my mom." He said, spraying the crisps over my face.

"Then stop acting like a bloody child!," I retorted and glared at him. In the distance I could hear Gilbert and Antonio in the background laughing loudly at my comment. I smirked to myself, feeling satisfied. Alfred didn't know what to say in return so he just flipped me the bird. "You're so mature, Alfred." I jeered sarcastically.

"Alright, settle down, settle down," Dr. Wang said, as he smacked a text book on his desk loudly to gain our attention. "We have a new student, he's come all the way from France," Some of the girls giggled and started chatting. I groaned. Why did that arsehole have to be in my favourite class? What have I done for God to treat me this way? Did I murder in my previous life? I rested my head on the desk and grumbled to myself. Alfred asked me what was wrong, I just brushed him off. He wouldn't understand my pain. The classroom door opened and my worst nightmare stepped in. But I couldn't help but blush when I remembered how attractive he actually was. The girls quietly squealed behind me and some of the boys wolf whistled. I shook my head, unimpressed.

"Hello, my name is Francis Bonnefoy, but please call me Francis." He said in the same way he spoke to me at the beginning. I hated the way he was so smooth with speaking in front of crowds, I hated the way he was able to flirt with not muddling up his words, or becoming flustered. I hated to admit it, but I was totally jealous of him. Maybe that was the reason he annoyed me so much. He was perfect, and I was not.

"Please, Francis, sit somewhere so I can begin this lesson." Francis nodded and scanned the room with his beautiful, sea blue eyes. His gaze stopped as he saw me and he smirked. Then, to my utter surprise, he started to advance towards me, sitting on the other side of me. Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"You know this guy?" He said, picking out bits of food from his teeth with his finger.

"No, I-"I began

"Yes, he does know me. We are roommates, aren't we, Artie?" _Artie? When did I say he could call me that?_ I thought.

"That's Arthur to you, Francis." I spat. He chuckled in response, then he slung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me towards him. My eyes widened in confusion and I blushed. Pushing him away, I glared at him.

"What are you playing at, you condescending twat?" I whispered dangerously. Francis smiled.

"I want you to fall in love with me." He said, bluntly. I froze. The words stuck in my throat.

_Fall in love? Yes, I found him attractive, but I didn't love him! There was no way in the world I will fall in love with that bloody frog! Never, never, never! _I promised myself.

But you see, even the most dedicated of people, can't keep their word sometimes.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Hi there. I hope you are enjoying this story!-Scottie :D_

The rest of the day trundled by slowly. I was exhausted by the biology test we had second period. By the time our last period ended, I was on the brink of death. I was anything but in the mood to see Francis, so I walked home slowly. Aimlessly, I kicked a stone that I found on the pavement, trying to keep my mind off of what Francis had said to me earlier. I blushed madly and furiously kicked the stone into the road, extremely annoyed.

My keys jingled when I pulled them out of my pocket, as I arrived at my apartment. I pulled down on the door handle. It was open. I gulped. Thoughts of robberies or thieves came rushing to my head. I sighed with relief when I remembered that Francis had moved in. But, to be honest, I didn't feel entirely safe. I didn't know if Francis was going to pounce on me at any moment. Hesitating, I opened to front door fully. A sudden waft of mixed herbs and spices drifted toward me from the kitchen. It had been a while since I had last smelt something so good. I carefully slipped off my shoes and cautiously tip toed to the kitchen. I didn't enter immediately, instead I leant against the corridor wall and peered through the ajar door. There, in front of the stove was a tall man, with blond hair, neatly pulled back into a pony tail. The man, who was presumably Francis, was wearing a white apron. The figure turned around to grab something on the table. I cursed and frantically scrambled away from the door, hoping that Francis wouldn't see me. I heard a deep chuckle that made my heart jump ever so slightly.

"Quiet as a mouse, you are, Arthur," I sighed and slumped down onto the floor outside of the kitchen. Shit. I had been found out. "You can come out of your hiding place now, I know you're there,"

A few seconds later I surrendered and sluggishly walked into the kitchen, avoid Francis' gaze. Francis smiled. "You don't cook often do you?" He said, stirring whatever was in the pot to his left.

"How d'ya know?," I grumbled. Francis chuckled at my stroppy behaviour. Instead of telling me what the problem was, he picked up a packet of some green leaves and showed me the back of the packaging. "What's your point, frog face?" I snorted. Francis frowned at my insult, instantly making me feel guilty.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise that you couldn't see that the expiration date was out by 2 years, due to your thick caterpillar eyebrows," Francis spat back. I had to step back I was so shocked. He had to insult my weakness. My jaw dropped and my eyebrows kitted together in surprise. Francis smiled and hummed as he saw my reaction. "Little tip for you, . Don't pick fights, you cannot win." He said, ruffling my hair, grinning innocently. I instinctively swatted his hand away, and gritted my teeth. Francis shrugged and returned to stirring his pot. My anger had reached the boiling point and there was nothing that would stop this pot from overflowing.

"At least I'm not so feminine that I look good in an apron!," I half yelled. Francis stopped stirring and he gradually turned his head around to face me. Then a devious smirk appeared on his perfectly chiselled face. As he raised a suggestive eyebrow, I realised what I had just said.

"What was that you said, Arthur?" He hummed.

My face flushed an attractive shade of crimson and I cursed under my breath. I shyly looked up at Francis through my long fringe. "D-Don't go assuming things!" I shouted storming out of the kitchen, running to my bedroom and slamming the door shut. I hid underneath my covers and cringed from embarrassment.

It took me a few minutes for me to calm down properly, but I was still sulking to myself. I heard the bedroom door open, something slide in, and the door closing again. Cautiously pulling the bed sheets off of me I looked at what was making the noise. There, at the front of my room was a plate of spaghetti. I huffed, turning away from the plate, but my stomach rumbled as if contradicting my decision. I got out of my bed and crouched in front of the plate, examining it. I didn't trust Francis just yet, he may have slipped something into the sauce. But it honestly to so delicious. The tomato sauce looked lovely and thick, with a sprinkling of basil on the top. The door creaked open slightly again, this time a hand slipped through, leaving something wrapped in a napkin. The elegant, slim hand quickly retreated and the door was closed once again. In the napkin I found a set of cutlery and some kind of small cake in plastic wrapping. I couldn't help myself when a smile spread across my cheeks, but I kept my affection to myself.

Maybe Francis wasn't that bad after all.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hallo everyone. __ Thanks for reading this. This is just a reminder that all of you are hella awesome. Enjoy-Scottie_

_A tall figure stood over me, I could barely see his face. The room was dark so that I could just scarcely make out his shadow. The figure leant over me, I dared not move, scared that the man would attack me. Instead, the man leant down and softly kissed my forehead, then he turned toward the door. I reached out after the man, wanting to feel his warmth once more…_

I snapped out of my dream by the sound of my phone vibrating. I groaned and rubbed my red, puffy eyes, sitting up. Pulling the phone off of the charger, I squinted at the bright screen. It was a text from Alfred. Sighing, I unlocked my phone and read the text.

_**sup &amp; a couple of dudes r gonna go and get shitfaced 2night at black velvet, wanna come?**_

I shook my head at the disgusting grammar usage and flopped back down onto the bed and yawned. Black velvet was the local club where teenagers and young adults met up all the time to have a good time and get laid. I didn't particularly like clubs, but it had been a while since I had last had some action in the bed. I texted Alfred that I would go, but I would have to be back at latest 12 o'clock.

I stumbled out of my bed and then did I realise I had fallen asleep in my clothes. They were now crumpled and in a sorry state. I removed my clothes and went to the wardrobe to put a clean shirt, a pair of trousers and a knitted jumper on. As I put on my clothes I realised that the plate and the cutlery were missing from the door. Francis must have come in in the night and taken away the plate. Maybe when he entered my room, he kissed me on the forehead, just like the man in my dreams. My face heated up as I thought about that. I mentally slapped myself for thinking such disgraceful things. But the image of Francis kissing me was stuck in my head for all of the day.

After I attempted to brush out my cow licked hair, I opened my bedroom door, only to be welcomed by the smell of toasted bread and bacon. I licked my dry lips and sauntered to the kitchen, pushing the door open softly. Francis was (yet again) in front of the stove. He was humming an unfamiliar tune to himself, but stopped when he heard me.

"Ah, good morning, mon cher. Take a seat, I have cooked you some breakfast." I was taken back by how he used "mon cher"so casually. I knew what that meant, since I was part fluent in French, but like hell I was going to tell frog face that. I looked at France for a few seconds, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable, then when he looked away, admitting defeat, I sat down. As Francis finished cooking, I began to admire the way the table was laid. It looked so elegant and I didn't even know that we had so much crockery.

A plate was placed in front of me, waking me up.

"T-thank you..." I whispered, beginning to turn jealous of Francis' skills. Francis smiled.

"Don't just stare at it, you can start eating," He chuckled. I frowned and aggressively picked up my knife and fork and started cutting the bacon, shoving it into my mouth. "You looked so elegant when you slept, what happens when you wake up?" Francis smiled and gazed at me as he sat down opposite me. I blushed, quickly looking down at my plate, trying to avoid his piercing gaze.

"D-Don't watch me when I sleep, it's weird, you pervert!" Francis smirked.

"Takes one to know one~" Francis sang as he nibbled elegantly at his food. I huffed at this comment and whispered under my breath.

"Am not…" But I was lying.

A couple of minutes later, we finished breakfast. I thanked Francis and complimented his cooking. I swear that Francis blushed slightly when I said the compliment. Francis told me to go and get ready for school while he washed up. As I brushed my teeth, I noted that Francis would be the perfect house wife. Plus, he looked damn good in an apron. I blushed as an image of a very naked Francis, just covered by an apron popped into my mind. I cursed and thought of my grandmother to calm me down.

I felt a vibration in my pocket, and I pulled out my phone. There was another text from Alfred. I groaned, not wanted to talk to him.

_**Bro I 4got to tell u that Frenchy is comin too. Hes hella popular with the girls so he can bring some along.**_

My heart dropped as I realised that Francis was a total player. He had the looks of a model and was from a country whom accents were gorgeous. From what I saw, he was the university's heartthrob. I snorted to myself as I realised that I would never have a chance with him. Only when I looked in the mirror did I then see how upset about that I was. Tears threatened to fall out of me green eyes, but I restrained them.

"Why are you getting so worked up about this, you're pathetic." I told myself and splashed water in my face to cover up the fact that I was close to tears.

But something inside me told me that I still had a chance with him. That something would have to be a miracle.


	5. Chapter 5

The day went by quicker than I anticipated. It was probably because I was excited about what might happen. Maybe I could get a chance with Francis.

When I got home, I glanced at the clock. It was 4 o'clock. I sighed and flopped myself onto the sofa, closing my eyes, hoping to get some rest before the party. During my slumber, I dreamt about what if Francis and I were dating. In my dream there were a lot of flower petals blowing gently in the wind. Francis and I were sitting outside of a café, drinking tea in Paris. Francis lent in to kiss me and-

"Arthur!," Someone said loudly, causing me to jump off of the sofa and crash onto the wooden floor below me. I sat up and groaned, rubbing my head where it collided with the ground. I opened my eyes and looked up at who was the culprit for my suffering. It was Francis. He was looking down at me with an innocent smile on his face, his hair falling in front of his face. I had to look away because I was blushing so much (why did he have to be so attractive?). Francis stuck out a hand for me to grab onto in order to help me get up. I ignored him and got up by myself, brushing my trousers down. "Arthur, it's almost 9 o'clock. We have to be at the club in 45 minutes. I wanted to leave you there. You looked and sounded so happy," He said, turning around and walking into his bedroom, probably to get changed.

I cursed to myself. I usually talked in my sleep. I wondered who much of my dream he had heard. I cringed at myself. This wasn't going well.

As I waited for Francis to come out of his room so we could leave, I thought of ways to ask Francis out. It was difficult, due to the fact that I had never asked anyone out before. To be perfectly honest, I had never had a crush as serious as the one I had on Francis before. I had been out with some girls before when I was in the early years of secondary school but it never felt right. I just didn't see the pleasure in girls that all of my other mates did. I've never told anyone that I was gay, but I'm sure people had their suspicions.

About 5 minutes later, Francis came out of his bedroom. He was wearing a dark purple shirt with some black skinny jeans. The shirt had been unbuttoned at the top, showing off some of his chest. He had an army necklace around his neck and a few silver bracelets were slung around his wrists. If you were to ask me, I say he was downright gorgeous. "How do I look?" He said smirking and winking at me playfully.

"Like a twat." I said. Shit. I had a hard time expressing my feelings. Francis pretended to cry and pouted, giving me puppy dog eyes. The he stopped, looking at me from top to toe.

"Please don't tell me you're going out like that? Are you?" he said, frowning. I glared at him and shrugged violently.

"What about it, frog face?" I spat, hurt about how he was insulting my fashion sense.

"It's not very. You know. Party-like. You'll look like a party pooper. Come here." He said as he walked over to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me into my room.

"H-hey!," I shouted as he pushed me down onto the bed and walked over to my wardrobe, pulling the doors open." What do you think you're doing?!"

"Giving you some sex appeal!" He said as he started looking through my clothes, humming to himself. After some searching around, he smiled to himself as he pulled out a black and blue t-shirt with a big skull in the middle, some dark blue skinny jean and a union jack bandana for my neck out. He threw them at me and said he was going to wait outside for me while I got changed. I grumbled to myself unhappily as he exited my room.

After I put all of the clothing items on, I walked over to the big mirror in my room and gasped. I was a completely different person. I smirked to myself, surprised at how good I could look.

I strutted out of my room and saw Francis leaning against the door way opposite my room. He smiled when he saw me.

"Wait there." He said as he quickly ran into his room. I could hear some things being moved and some rustling. Francis returned with some black studded bracelets and told me to hold out my hands. I did as I was told and he carefully fastened them onto the wrists. His hands were so soft and delicate. After Francis was finished, he walked back a few steps to observe his masterpiece. He grinned to himself and said.

"You look so good, I could date you myself." _I wish you would_. I thought to myself. He then threw me one of his coats. It was a nice black leather. I bashfully thanked him and put it on, smiling at hoe warm it was. We then left for Black Velvet.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hey! This chapter has alcohol in it and other teenage stuff. Also, some mentions of the bed boogie. This chapter is longer than the others because there was a lot of things I wanted to write. Enjoy __-Scott_

When we stepped out of the building, I was thankful for the coat that Francis had lent me, due to the fact that it was bloody freezing at 9 o'clock. I was surprised that Francis wasn't cold, he was just wearing a shirt and trousers. His chest hair and goatee was probably keeping him warm. I giggled to myself at the mental image of Francis covered from top to toe in hair.

As we started walking, I suggested to Francis that we should have hailed a cab. He pointed out that the cabs were really expensive these days. I hummed in agreement and shivered. Francis must have noticed because he then said;

"It's only a 15 minute walk to the club, stop shivering." I glared at him.

"It not my fault. It's yours. You're the one that decided for me to wear these flimsy clothes," I huffed. Francis laughed I frowned at him. "What, frog-breath?"

"But it's also the first time you actually look attractive. "He said. I was about to throw another empty insult at him, but the words were trapped in my throat. That compliment took me off guard.

It was silent for the rest of the trip apart from Francis humming a song which I didn't heard before. But it was beautiful and I wondered what it would sound like if Francis sang. It would probably sound like an angel. That then got me thinking what it would sound like if he moaned…

I blushed and shook my head, hoping to get that thought out of my head. The French man gave me an odd look, but let it slide and resumed humming.

When we were drawing closer to the club the streets suddenly became busy and noisy. There were more women out then men. Many of the girls looked in our direction and then giggled, presumably gossiping to their friends. Francis smiled and winked to the ladies, causing them to blush and squeal slightly. Just as I thought, Francis was a womanizer. I suddenly felt jealous and rejected. Some girls were looking at me and smiling shyly, which made me feel rather self-conscious. I had never gotten this much attention before from anyone. I attempted to hide behind Francis. The man in front of me looked behind him and gave me a quizzical look.

"You okay, mon cher?" He asked, turning around so he was facing me. He put a hand reassuringly on my shoulder. I didn't say anything of him calling me 'mon cher', but instead I said;

"I'm nervous. I never got this much attention before. They're all looking at me weirdly. I think I should go home…" I turned around and went to walk home, but Francis quickly reached out and grabbed hold of my hand, looking at me sadly. Some of the girls squealed. For what reason, I didn't know.

"Listen, Arthur. There's nothing to be nervous about. They're looking at you because you're beautiful, once you have some alcohol in your system, you'll loosen up" He said and brushed some hair out of my face. I blushed and tried not to look at him directly. "Now, mon petit lapin, shall we carry on?" He said smiling. I nodded and we carried on walking, his hand still in mine, leading me. Something about being called his little rabbit made me content and wanted. He looked back at me to check if I was okay and smiled once again. _Idiot. The one who's beautiful is you, _I thought to myself. I wish I could have told him that, but yet again, I didn't have the guts to.

When we reached the club doors, Francis let go of my hand and pushed them open. Near the entrance, we saw Alfred surrounded by some people in my class. Francis and I made our way over to the huddle.

"Bonjour, everyone." Francis said. Everyone's heads spun to look at me. I hid behind Francis again, hating myself for being so nervous.

"Woah, Arthur, is that you, dude?," Alfred said, putting down his beer and walking over to me. I didn't reply. "You look great, bro."

"And I was his personal stylist." Francis said while winking at Alfred. Alfred laughed. Some of the girls rushed over to us.

"Arthur you look so cute! Nice job Francis." Said Emma, a Belgium exchange student. She gave Francis a thumbs up which my roommate returned.

"You look good too, Francis. I love the shirt" Mei said, checking Francis up and down.

"Can I have a picture of you two together?" Asked Elizabeta, rummaging through her handbag, attempting to find her phone. Francis chuckled and accepted the offer.

After Elizabeta took the photo, Francis took me to the bar where we found Ivan, who moved to England from Russia with his two sisters a couple of years ago. Francis ordered two beers for us and took a seat next to Ivan, who was drinking some kind of clear liquid in surprisingly small glasses. I awkwardly sat next to Francis. I tapped my roommate's shoulder. He looked at me.

"Yes?" He said, looking at me with big, blue, curious eyes.

"What's Ivan drinking?" I asked, feeling stupid that I didn't know what the answer was. I hated not knowing things. Francis chuckled as the bar man gave us the beer and he took a sip from it.

"That, my dear, is vodka," He said as he passed a beer bottle to me. I picked it up and took a couple of large swigs from the bottle. "Please tell me you've had it before."

"Hah!," I said, the alcohol affecting me slightly. "Of course I have. I love the stuff." I lied. _Shit, what was I getting myself into?_ Francis raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised.

"Right then. Two shots for me and my friend please," He said to the bartender. I swallowed, nervously. After a couple of seconds, two small glasses were placed in front of us. Francis picked up his glass, I copied his actions. He raised his glass slightly and said "Cheers," Then threw back his head and swallowed the clear liquid in one gulp. Again, I imitated him. That was probably one of the stupidest things I had done in my 18 years of living. The liquid burned as it trickled down my throat and I need to cough. It had a sharp taste and it made my vision blurry slightly. I put the small glass on the table, tears in my eyes. I looked over to Francis who was grinning at me, obviously not affected. Ivan was smiled creepily in the corner of my vision which made me slightly uneasy. "Ready for another?" He sang. I sighed internally. I had to prove myself a man to my roommate, or he would tease me about it for weeks. Nodding, the bartender handed us another two glasses. I hesitated, but then drank the substance again. I had to close my eyes and gasp fro air when I finished. I glared at Francis who was still looking as cool as he did when he entered his damn club. 

"That's enough." I said as I drank some more beer, in order to get the awful taste out of my mouth. I was surprised with myself that I had managed to finish the bottle of beer. Francis chuckled.

"Whatever you say, Arthur," He said as he picked up his beer and started to walk back to the group our friends. I followed clumsily, the alcohol slowing my reactions. Everything was swaying slightly and I felt light headed. When Francis had reached the others, I didn't notice that he had stopped so I crashed into his back. I hit my nose and fell back. Francis turned around and frowned. "Arthur? Are you okay?," He said as he crouched down next to me and looked me straight into my eyes. His facial features showed that he was concerned for me, but at the time I couldn't register his emotions. Everything was too much for me at that moment. I tried to stand up but my legs were dead. I rubbed my eyes and groaned as I sat up. Francis sighed and smiled sympathetically and then to my surprise, he put one arm underneath my leg and one arm underneath my back and picked me up like a maiden in distress. I tried to fight what Francis was doing, but I was too drunk. My roommate tutted "You drank too much, Mr Kirkland." He said as he sat me down on a sofa near the bar. I lay my head down on the back of the sofa and closed my eyes, breathing heavily out. Francis got up and started to walk away.

"Wait," I said as I reached out and grabbed out, holding to his shirt. "Don't leave me, please. I need you with me." I whispered, embarrassed about what I was saying, but I couldn't control what was coming out of my mouth. I was afraid of being alone. Francis smiled and turned around, kneeling in front of me.

"Don't worry, mon petit lapin, I'm just going to get you a glass of water. I'll be right back." He said, making me feel like a fool.

"I'm-I'm not a …little rabbit." I said, grumpily.

"Oh, so you do understand French after all? You never said anything when I called you "my dear" or when I called you a little rabbit earlier. Tell me, why didn't you say anything." He said smirking.

"…Because I like it when you call me those things. If I pointed it out, you'd stop it. I wouldn't want that," I said, on the verge of tears. Only God knew why I was crying, must have been the alcohol influence. I started to rub the tears away with my shirt sleeves. Francis chuckled and then, to my utter surprises, caressed my cheek and then softly kissed it. I stared at him wide eyed and I stuttered. "W…why? Why did you do that? You don't even like me…why would you play with my emotions like that?" I said, my eyes streaming with tears that stained my rosy cheeks. Now it was Francis' turn to stare at me wide eyed. His face softened and he shook his head, smiling softly,

"That's where you are wrong, my love. I would never do that to someone I like." He said, then stood up ruffled my hair and walked off to get the glass of water. I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but yet again, I couldn't bring myself to do that. Cursing, I lay back on the sofa and closed my eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Sup ma peeps. This chapter has some kissy-kissy things and mentions of being sick. :P lovely combination. Enjoy~_

When I woke up I was surrounded by the smell of Francis. It was cold do I presumed we were outside. I grinned to myself and giggled slightly, the alcohol still active in my system.

"Oh, good morning, my sleeping beauty." I heard Francis say.

"Where are we going?" I said; clinging to Francis' shirt as he carried me bridal style through the mass of people who were probably from Black Velvet, the club which we were at a few minutes ago.

"You passed out of a good couple of minutes. I thought it would be best to take you home," he said, smiling down at me sweetly. "We'll be home in a few minutes, my dear," Francis said then looked up at the street in front of him and we said nothing else for the rest of the way there.

The sound of the door clicking opened snapped me out of the trance which was caused by alcohol. Francis chuckled as he looked at me. He then walked over to the living room and lay me down on the sofa, then crouched down on the floor and brushed the hair from my eyes. "Would you like anything?," Francis said. I blushed, thinking about what the thing I wanted was him. I mumbled something incoherent to him. "Pardon, Mon Cher? Speak up."

"I want you." I said quickly, feeling myself become light headed as I covered my face with my hands. I heard Francis chuckle then he proceeded to take my hands away from my face with his own. I cautiously opened my eyes, completely embarrassed with what I had just said. As I did so, he lightly kissed my hands, looking at me as he did so. I attempted to turn away, but his gaze was so overpowering. He then placed my hands down and leaned over to my face. His soft lips came in contact with mine. The adrenaline pumped through my body as he did so. I closed my eyes and melted into the kiss, sighing as I did so. Francis brought his hands up and cupped my face, pulling me closer to him. I placed my hands carefully on his shoulders for support. Francis' tongue traced the opening of my mouth, asking for permission to enter. I parted my lips slightly. Francis' tongue entered my mouth and I shuddered slightly, for this was a new experience. Out tongues danced together. Just as I was going to beg Francis for more, he pulled back. His face was slightly flushed and I wondered how red I had become.

"I don't want to make love to you while you are drunk, knowing you, you'll forget everything that happened. We wouldn't want that now, would we," He said, smirking at me, teasingly and then winking. "I want you to remember every single detail, okay?," He said as he traced a finger down from my neck, justice stopping at the button of my trousers, then drawing back, smiling as if nothing had happened. Bloody fucking frog, being such a tease! I would get him for this.

I was about to protest, but something felt off. I groaned and clutched my stomach, curling up into a foetus position. I heard Francis whisper a profanity of some sort, but I was in too much pain to think straight. I heard someone's footsteps quickly become quieter, somethings falling onto the floor which a crash and then the footsteps quickly returning. Francis was flushed in the face and breathing heavily. Next to him was a bucket. And thank god for that blasted bucket. There would have been a massive mess if it wasn't for that thing. "That's another reason I didn't want to do anything weird tonight. It's not something I find nice when someone vomits during the act of intercourse…" Francis said sighing then stroking my scruffy hair. I couldn't answer, I was too tired. Instead I just drifted off into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Gah! I'm so sorry, guys!*cries* I had something related to writers block for almost a month (or was it longer) and I had been procrastinating since it is the summer holidays. I'm a horrible human being and this chapter is my apology. Please accept it. Thanks ( btw 19 follows and 6 faves? Woah, thanks guys, you're awesome)-Scott_

Once I had awoken, I received an almighty headache. I groaned loudly and rolled over in my bed. My bed. Not the sofa where I had fallen asleep last night on. Francis must have carried me here while I slept. I blushes, thinking about how embarrassing that situation could have been. I just hoped and hoped that I didn't do or say anything that I would regret now. I rubbed my face with my hands and flung the covers of my bed off of me and sat up, my legs swinging off the edge it. I was also in my pyjamas. Francis must have changed me too then. He had undressed me. He had seen me naked. I snarled with regret and suddenly stood up, violently shoving my feet into my green bunny slippers.

I stomped out of my bed chamber and quickly made my way down to the kitchen. Francis was most likely there, cooking breakfast. Francis' cooking was the best. It was so delicious and- No! I couldn't let myself get distracted from the point. The point was, Francis undressed me without my permission while I was in an unconscious state. I slammed the kitchen door open, which caused it to smack loudly against the wall behind it loudly. Francis jumped a few feet in the air and let out a sound of surprise, almost dropping the pan which he was currently holding.

"Arthur what's wro-"

"FRANCIS!" I screamed. The Frenchman tutted, putting his pan down and walking over to me, taking his white, frilly apron off in the process. To my utter surprise, he lent down and kissed me full on the lips. I stumbled back, hoping for something to support me, but the door wasn't where it should have been. Before I fell, Francis hooked one of his arms around my waist and his other hand cupped my chin. It took me a few seconds to grasp what was happening, but when I did, my stomach started to flutter weirdly like it had never before and I felt faint. I was glad that Francis was holding me, because I became completely lax. The frog's mouth left mine and as soon as it did, I wanted to experience that feeling again. Somewhere in my brain triggered the feeling of déjà vu, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Don't go screaming like that in the morning. It'll disturb the neighbours," He said, flashing me an innocent smirk. I was lost for words, all I did was stare at Francis' beautiful face, my eyes wide with shock. "So, what did you want to tell me?" he said as he picked up the pan which he left a minute ago and brought it over to the table.

"You…you undressed…me…yes-yesterday and…you-" I stuttered, becoming nervous. Francis chuckled:

"You were sweaty and you smelt of alcohol last night. You would have been disgusted too if you were conscious. I did the same thing what anyone would." I forgot that Francis wasn't that bad, but I still felt as if he invaded my privacy.

"T-then, why did you kiss me?" I said, some of my courage returning. Francis stopped putting food onto the plates and looked towards to me, with a pained expression of his face. His face made my heart and stomach drop. Why did I feel guilty? It was a perfectly reasonable question, wasn't it?

"Don't tell me you've forgotten what happened last night?," Francis then sighed, running a free hand through his long, beautiful hair. He then smiled, but sadly." I knew you would forget. You were too drunk to remember anything."

"Stop playing games with me, Francis," I snapped "tell me what I did." Francis raised an eyebrow and I waited for the blow.

"In your exact words, I can quote that you said,"I cringed not wanting to hear what Francis was going to say. "'I want you'" Francis whispered, lust dripping from each word. I blushed madly and felt the need to defend myself. Francis put the pan in the sink and faced me, a stern look on his face.

"N-no way I would say that! You're making it all-"

"Will you go out with me?" Francis cut in.

"up. You should be sorry! Wait, what did you say?"

"Arthur Kirkland, will you be my boyfriend?"

"…"

All I could do was stare at Francis once again, probably looking like a beached fish, gasping for air. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I couldn't decide whether they were tears of happiness or shock. I covered my face with my hands, using my long pyjama sleeves as hankies. Francis laughed. But it was not his usual, boisterous laugh, it was a cute, reassuring, caring laugh. He walked up to me and pulled me into an immense embrace and nuzzled his face into my chest.

"I'll take that as a yes." Francis finally said.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Gah! I'm so mean! I should have updated but I am lazy and I had homework which I dragged out to the last bloody minute. This is a relatively short chapter, but please enjoy nonetheless…-Scott _

After Francis dried my tears with his shirt sleeve, he pulled me into a long, needy kiss. He wrapped my arms around my waist and cupped my face gently. For some strange reason, my tears stopped flowing and when Francis drew away, i stared at him with half lidded eyes. He chuckled;

"You've stopped crying." he said as he gazed into my glazed eyes with longing.

"B-breakfast...we...we should eat breakfast..." i said nervously. My head was swimming with thoughts of Francis and i couldn't think straight. I sat down on one of the chairs and fixed my gaze onto one of the china plates which was stacked up with delicious looking food.

After both of us had finished breakfast and finished getting ready Francis smoothly hooked his hand into mine and gave me a mischievous smile as he then kissed my forehead. I blushed, looking away, not wanting Francis to see the effect he made on me.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time, but now that we're dating, i can do this all i want." He smiled sweetly at me and I swear my heart skipped a beat. He could charm anyone with that smile.

As we walked to Uni, Francis swung his arm slightly, making my hand rock too. I felt so happy, so content, but I wondered if I could bring myself to tell Francis that I loved him. Maybe it was too soon to go declaring my love for him. I didn't want things to go too quickly. Another reason was that I was really insecure about the whole thing. I was always worried about what to do next, or doing something wrong.

When we made it to our first class, which was Mathematics, I quickly drew my hand away from his and opened the door. I didn't want people knowing about our relationship just yet. As I drew my hand away, I missed Francis' pained expression. I walked a couple of strides ahead as I walked up the steps to sit next to Kiku, a Japanese exchange student who I got along well with. Francis walked past me, winking and smiling but I ignored him, crossing my arms and huffing. I had to act exactly the same way as I did before I started dating him. Kiku chuckled, covering his mouth with a slender, pale hand.

"Same as always I see?" He said. I sighed and frowned, but followed Francis with my gaze as he went to join his friends which consisted of Gilbert, Antonio and Antonio's boyfriend whose name I used to forget all the time. Romana? No, Romano, like the cheese. I turned back around to face the front, rummaging through my bag and taking out a green notebook and a pen. Flicking through the notes, I prayed that the lesson would start. I wanted to be with Francis again. It was pathetic wanting to be with him all the time, but I guessed that was what love is like.

Mathematics was a complete and utter bore. Our teacher, Mr, Karpusi fell asleep half way through the hour and drooled on the test papers before we had a chance to fill them out. I wasn't complaining, but I spent the majority of the night revision for it. As soon as the lesson ended, I ran out of the classroom, trying not to fall down the steps and waited at the men's bathroom where Francis told me to meet him. A few minutes later he showed up, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Hey, mon cher." He said as he gently kissed my cheek. I frowned with embarrassment but let him continue.

"H-hello…" I managed to say. Francis hugged me tightly, which surprised me.

"It was tiring not being able to touch you for an hour." He said, smiling as he rested his head on my shoulder, sighing deeply. I patted his head gently causing Francis to look up at me, his blue, beautiful eyes, round and watery. I took the chance, not bothering to look around me and kissed him on the lips. And it was at that very moment that we heard a camera shutter snap. I pulled away from Francis quickly. I didn't get to see the culprit's face, but I saw a person fun off with an antique camera in their hand. I gulped as I looked over to Francis who seemed to be unfazed, his head cocked slightly with confusion. Whoever that person was, they had just taken a great picture of Francis and I kissing…and I felt compelled to find out who that person was.


End file.
